Don't Let Go: South Park (Discontinued)
by CrayWolf
Summary: South Park has experienced zombies before, but never like this - this time it's different. This time, no one reawakens as anything but dead. This time, there's no going back.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey! Cray Wolf here! Welcome to my new story! This Fanfiction will be long, with many chapters!**

 **NOTE: This is a South Park Fanfiction – a YAOI Fanfiction!**

 **Warning: This is a Yaoi, which means Boy Love! If you do not like Boy Love, this is not for you! Contains profanity, and future sexual scenes. You have been warned!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own South Park, nor am I affiliated with it in anyway. All I own is the plot and story line!**

 _ **Don't Let Go: South Park**_

 **Slowly walking along a thin line**

 **What life I find**

 **Will forever be** _ **mine**_

 **I shall not complain**

 **For that only brings pain**

 **And when the past calls**

 **I will not pick up**

 **It has nothing new to say**

 **All I can do**

 **Is walk this line**

 **Every single day**

 **Cray Wolf**

 **Chapter One: It's In The Water**

" _ **Smile at pain, it means you're still human."**_

Cray Wolf

 _ **Kyle's POV:**_

"Stan, look." I threw a rock into the murky water of Starks Pond and it skipped three times before sinking. "I know you're going through a lot, but, dude. You've gotta get a hold of yourself…" I said, picking up another flat rock I dug out of the snow.

"Get a hold of myself?!" Stan cried out, jerking his head in my direction. "My mom is in the hospital with an unknown disease!"

"Stan, she'll be okay." I tried to say calmly. "I'm worried about you, all you do is sulk all day, and you never lift your eyes from the stupid ground!" I angrily chucked the rock into the water, and it landed with a loud, 'PLOP!' Stan shot me the glare of death.

"Well now I'm looking at YOU!" He growled. I gave his angry, tear-stained face the most sympathetic one I could muster.

"Look, I know why you're upset, but I can't fully understand unless you-"

"That's right! You don't understand-"

"Then HELP me understand!" I yelled. Stan brought his knees to his chest and put his face in his red gloved hands.

"I just don't know what to do. I can't just act normal while my mom is fucking dying in Washington as we speak!" He chocked. He looked terrible. His hair was poking out on all sides from his hat – which was lopsided on his head. His face was teary and breaking out and there was black stubble on his chin. His eyes were puffy and swollen with bags under them from lack of sleep.

"She's not gonna die." I said softly.

"Yes, she is! They told us the day before yesterday. We're flying out in two days to say our goodbyes!" He sobbed out.

"Stan – I – why didn't you tell me?" I scooted closer to my Super Best Friend.

 _Why do all the bad things have to happen to the best of people?_

"I just couldn't. I wanted to ask you if you'd come with me…" He mumbled and buried his head deeper into his arms. I placed my hand gently on his shoulder.

" _Of course_ I'll come with you! I'm always here for you, dude." I said. Stan lifted his head and starred into my bright green eyes with his perfect blue ones.

 _So perfect._

He threw his arms around me and squeezed me close.

"Thank you so much, dude." He quietly chuckled. "But you're so cheesy." I smiled at him.

"Whatever. Why don't I stay at your place until we leave?" I pulled away from the hug.

"Will your mom be okay with it?" He asked as he wiped his face with his sleeve.

"Of course she will, she loves you like you're her own son." I smiled again and received one back from Stan. "Come over and help me pack for the trip. How long will we be staying?"

"Three days." He answered.

"Kay, let's go." I stood up, one of my shiny locks of red hair escaping my green ushanka and falling into my face. "I really need a haircut…" I muttered to myself.

 **A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short, without much action. The apocalypse will start soon, I promise! I'm so excited to continue this story, I already have 42 pages written in my notebook. I mean, what could be better than Zombies and Yaoi?! NOTHING. NOTHING I SAY! Ahem. Sorry 'bout that. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!**

 **CRAY WOLF OUT!**


	2. Its In The Water

**A/N: Hey, Cray Wolf here! I'm back with another chapter! Yay! This chapter will be switching POVs. I don't know if I mentioned it before, but this story will be doing that a lot. That's all! Now Read!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own South Park nor am I affiliated with it in any way.**

 **Chapter Two: Don't Drink the Water**

 _ **Weeping like a willow tree**_

 _ **Wailing like a waterfall**_

 _ **Whispering like the wind**_

 _ **Before dying in the end**_

 **Cray Wolf**

" _ **Down in the times when I felt like shit, I felt so lost and my mind couldn't find its way. I know that I'm okay."**_

 **Go Betty Go**

 _ **Kyle's POV:**_

"Mom! I'm home!"

"Me too, Mrs. Broflovski!"

"Stan? Welcome!" My mom called, walking over to us from the kitchen. She had the same hairstyle as always, which gets annoying to always look at. "Hi, Bubula." She greeted me, making Stan smirk at her use of the Hebrew word.

"Uh, Mom?" She gazed me expectantly. "I need to ask you something really important. Can I talk to you somewhere more private?"

 _ **Stan's POV:**_

I watched as Kyle dragged his mom back to the kitchen and out of earshot. When they returned after a few minutes, I noticed Kyle's eyes looked a bit red and there were tears stained on his pale cheeks. But he smiled at me all the same.

"I can go." He said. I thanked his mom greatly before Kyle and I ran up the stairs together.

"Go take out the trash." Kyle said flatly and gestured his hands to the stairs outside his bedroom door.

"S'cuse me?" I raised an eyebrow. Kyle rolled his eyes and turned to me from his suitcase. His room was the same as from when we were ten. The dark blue walls, a now ripped and taped together 'Terrence and Phillip' poster, a 'Go Cows!' poster by his bed, the same old window, same blue and red lined curtains, same grey carpet, and the same wooden bed. The only differences were his new desk, his new lap top, and his green comforter he got for Christmas last year. He also had a picture of us together on his nightstand.

"Mom said it had to be done, so go!" He said as he stuffed some shirts into his dark green suitcase.

"Wait." I looked at my friend thoughtfully. "I just, uh, wanna say thanks. So much." Kyle looked up and grinned. His dimples were smaller than they used to be and he had several small freckles along his nose. He stood and tugged his left pant leg up, revealing his ankle.

"We're Super Best Friends, so don't worry about it." I looked at the thick red bracelet around his left ankle; on it were the letters 'SBF' printed on it in blue.

Kyle and I both got one when we were eleven. We decided not to wear them on our wrists because that would seem, as I called it, "Gay." So instead we put them around our ankles, where no one could see them.

"You still wear it?" I chuckled. He frowned.

"Yeah…Don't you?" He questioned, looking at my covered ankles. I pulled up my right pant leg, showing him my own bracelet identical to his.

"Of course I am!" I laughed. "I've never taken it off – except to shower and swim." I leaned down and unbuttoned the back of the bracelet. It was made of a soft, stiff material I didn't know the name of. I flipped it over to see the names written on the inside. 'Stan and Kyle.' I ran my finger along the names and smiled.

"Gaaay!" Teased Kyle. I laughed and flipped him off, then put the bracelet back on.

"Fine. I'll do yo' nasty trash." I stuck out my tongue and made a disgusted face. With that, I went to do as said.

' _Sing a hyyymmn for the dead, cause the – '_

I answered my phone; it was my dad. "Dad? Hi." I said as I carried two bags of trash out the front door and down the tan driveway.

"Stanley?! I need you home NOW!" He sounded frantic, and I started thinking the worst.

"Dad! What's wrong – is Mom alright?!"

"No time, son. No time! Just get your ass home, now!"

"Wh – okay, okay! I'll be right there! Just hang on!"

"Good! TTYL!" He yelled into the phone as I hung up. Facepalming, I threw the bags into the trash can and ran back into the Broflovski house.

 _ **Kyle's POV:**_

"Kyle!" It was Stan, he busted open my door.

"Shit, dude! You scared me!" I cried as I zipped up my suit case.

"We have to go!" He grabbed my hand and dragged me downstairs, my suitcase in tow.

"St-Stan! What are you doing?!" I shouted as he slammed my front door behind us.

"Somethings wrong, I got a call from my dad!" He huffed. We were running down the street to his house, which was thankfully next door. Stan fumbled for his house keys before unlocking the door to his house. We ran inside and I threw my luggage at the base of the stairs. "Dad?" Stan called out with his now ungloved hands cupped around his mouth.

"Stan? Down here!" Randy's voice came from the basement. The door was wide open and we dashed down the creaky wood steps. Randy was at his desk, looking through a microscope and scribbling things down on mounds of wrinkled paper. The lights were dim due the only light being an old lamp by the desk. Stan turned on the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Randy looked up at us.

"You brought Kyle? Good, good…" He said. Stan looked at me and shrugged as we sprinted over to the man.

"Dad, what are you doing with your old science materials?" Stan asked.

"I'm analyzing the disease." He tapped the microscope with a dull pencil.

"But Mr. Marsh, you're a Geologist. You're not qualified for that." I stated.

"Well, I figured out that sudden combustion thing, didn't I?" He said matter-of-factly. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. "But that's not important – well it is – but not right now." We looked at him expectantly. "Have any of you drunken _tap water_ recently?!"

"…No. Our water is filtered, and I mostly drink Mtn. Dew anyways." Stan answered.

"I'm serious Stanley. Any at all?"

"N-no?"

"What about you, Kyle? Any?!" He targeted me.

"I would never put tap water near my mouth, sir. Tap water makes me sick, so I only drink bottled water." I grimaced.

"Thank God!" Randy threw his arms in the air.

"Dad, why can't we drink tap water?" Stan asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"It's IN THE WATER, boys!"

"What is?" I asked him. He gave me an annoyed look and I shrunk down a little.

"The disease!" He scowled.

"WHAT?!" Stan and I said simultaneously.

"The bacteria that's infected my-my wife." He choked. "And thousands of others." He added. Stan's face turned white and I felt he color drain in mine as well.

"H-how do you know it's the same disease Mrs. Marsh has?" I asked slowly.

"I took Sharon's blood before they shipped her off to Washington." He scratched his head. "It's the same."

"We have to tell people not to drink the water! Is all of America contaminated?" Stan cried in a panic as he paced back and forth.

"Stan! Calm down!" His dad grabbed him and held him close. I was frozen.

' _Did my family drink any tap water?'_

"I need to call my family!" I exclaimed, pulling out my Iphone 5c. The screen read, Saturday, June 10th 7:28 pm. I stared a moment at the picture of me and my friends. Me, Stan, Kenny, and Cartman. Yes, I do call Fatass my friend. Sort of. Not really. But before I could even open my contacts, I heard a scream. I jerked around to Stan, only see him starring at his own phone, eyes wide.

"Dude, what's wrong?" I moved closer to him and looked at his phone. My eyes copied Stan's upon seeing the text.

 **A/N: Okay! Cliff hanger! This chapter was a lot longer than the last! Did you like it? I hope so! Okay okay,**

 **CRAY WOLF OUT!**


	3. Tears

**A/N: Hey! Cray Wolf here! I'm so sorry I was away! I was somewhere where I wasn't allowed a computer, so I couldn't update. So sorry!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own South Park nor am I affiliated with it in any way.**

 **Trigger Warning: Death/Suicide. If this will trigger you in any way, PLEASE do not read! This chapter contains sensitive and traumatic content!**

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Tears**

 **Don't Cry**

 **Don't Lie**

 **Don't Look In My Eyes**

 **For all You'll See Is Shadows**

 **Shadows I Despise**

 **Cray Wolf**

* * *

" **We're just suicidal kids telling other suicidal kids that suicide isn't the answer."**

 **Unknown**

* * *

 _ **Cartman's POV:**_

"Bwaahahahaha!" I chortled as I watched Terrance and Phillip. I shoved a hand full of Cheesy Poofs into my mouth. "Dammit, whore!" I yelled as the thumping and moaning upstairs got louder, referring to my slut of a mother. I turned up the volume of the Tv right as Phillip passed gas in a young women's face. "Ahh, it never gets old." I said smugly. I felt something brush up against my legs, making me shiver.

"Meow."

"Go away kitteh! These are my Cheesy Poofs, Mr. Kitteh!" My old grey cat ignored my scowls and jumped up on the couch seat next to me. She pawed at my arm.

"Meow."

"No, Kittehhh!" I whined. She just purred and rubbed her head against my elbow. I sighed, giving up. I turned my head back to the Tv and continued to watch reruns of my favorite show.

Suddenly, my cat sat up and perked her bald ears towards the stairs. She let out a low growl.

"Um…Kitty?" I asked. She responded by raising her hackles and jumping up on the back of the couch behind my head. I twisted around to face her and turned the Tv on mute. The sounds of sex upstairs were gone. I looked from my old cat to the stairs, then back the cat to the stairs again. "That was short…" I noted. Mr. Kitty was hissing and spitting, her yellow eyes locked on the stairs. Slowly, I placed my hand on her soft back. She had multiple balding patches on her body, but she was as healthy and strong as ever for an eleven year old cat. She flinched but kept her ground. "Mr. Kitty, stop. You're kinda freaking me out." Then I heard movement upstairs. I could her violent grunting and groaning and lots of bumping around. It wasn't my mom's normal sex sounds. "The fuck…?" I murmured. I jumped as I heard loud banging on the ceiling as though something were hitting the floor up there over and over again. Then the sounds stopped. I jumped again when Mr. Kitty leapt down and ran up the stairs. Hesitantly, I followed her. As I crept closer to my mom's room I thought I could hear crying. "Maaaam? Are you alright? Did Mister Scientist raaape yeww?" Mr. Kitty was scratching at her door. I was sure I heard crying. I placed my hand on the golden doorknob. "Mam? I coming in. You better not be choking on dick…" I warned. Slowly I turned the knob, ready to shield my eyes. "Mom?" I opened the door wide and froze in place. The room was a mess. The lamp was broken and on the floor, her sheets and comforter were thrown everywhere. Her chair was knocked over and her floor was covered in – I gulped. Blood. Lying in the middle of the floor was the scientist she had been seeing the past week and a half. His skull was bashed in and one of his eyes was hanging out of its socket.

"E-Eric…" My eyes moved to my naked mother. She had a large chunk of skin and meat taken out of her thigh. She was splattered in blood and fresh red was pouring down the wound in her leg. She was clutching a large vibrator, with was completely drenched in blood.

"Mom…" Her eyes were hazy.

"Eric, honey… I need you to do something for mommy…" She muttered through tears. I just stood there.

 _Don't break Eric. You don't care about anyone, remember? Just don't break. It's only the slut. Only the…slut. The slut that's your mom… My mom…_

"Please poopsykins. Get mommy her gun from the closet?" She was shaking softly. Mindlessly I made my way to her closet, stepping over the bloodied corpse. I opened it and, knowing where it was, pulled out her small pistol from a shoebox. "Bring it here, Eric." She demanded lightly. For once in my life, I did as I was told.

 _Don't break._

She shakily took the weapon from my hands. I stared at her pale face.

"You-you need a hospital." I said quietly.

"No…Eric, honey." She choked back a sob. "You need to get out of South Park. It's not safe here." She clutched the gun tightly in her hands, dropping the vibrator.

"Why?" I asked numbly.

 _Don't break. What's happening?_

"Just don't drink the water…" Her words were raspy.

"Mom."

"I love you, Eric." She lifted the gun to her head.

"Mom." She flipped the safety.

"Goodbye." I made a move to reach for the gun, but I was too late. She pulled the trigger.

"MOM!" She fell to the floor.

 _I see. Don't break. You've killed. Death is nothing._

For the first time in years, I felt warm, wet tears fall down my face. I dropped to my knees.

 _This isn't real. Why am I crying? Where am I? Don't break._

Mr. Kitty jumped in my lap and started licking my face with her rough tongue. I clutched the cat in my arms and held her to my chest.

" _I broke._ "

* * *

 **A/N: So, yeah. I decided to show a little bit of what goes on in Cartman's head. I've always felt he has a lot of mental issues, and I hope to show that a bit in this story. I want to develop him a lot, and I'm excited to do so. Pretty traumatic, huh? Yeahh… I'm sorry. There'll be a lot of stuff similar to this throughout this fanfic. Anyway…**

 **CRAY WOLF OUT!**


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